


Masquerade

by Zelos



Series: The Burial of the Guns [6]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2562995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelos/pseuds/Zelos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a butcher within every knight.</p><p>Even heroes lie and pretend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bloodlines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlebirdtoldme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdtoldme/gifts), [JustAnotherGhostwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/gifts).



> A short collection of lies and deceit after the war.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wanted a son. Tobias wanted a family.”

Most people were all too happy to believe their (Marco’s) version of the story. No one _really_ wanted to delve too deep into the plot holes, the fallacies, the illogical stories. They wanted to believe the falsehoods, the accidents, the coincidences. They were too busy with their own losses to pry.

Marco was a good liar. But there were always exceptions to the rule.

“Who was it, Jake?” Aunt Ellen said softly. Her voice cracked on every word.

Jake remained silent, staring at the bloodless faces. They’d worn those same expressions at Saddler’s funeral.

“You—” Uncle George was getting agitated. Angry. The wooden table creaked underneath his clenched hands. He took a deep, shaking breath. “ _Damn you_ , Jake. You owe us this.”

Jake’s eyes flicked between his family members, weighing the costs. And it was aching and sick, how familiar this all was. One life against another. One falsehood against another. Half-truths vs. outright lies, the pros and cons of each, judging the consequences like he did so many times before.

He couldn’t tell them about David. No one could know about David. Not after all Marco’s efforts, not after everything. David’s family had already  _grieved_.

They would take his word for it, whatever—whoever he said.

There was only one person who wasn’t around to call him out.

“It was Tobias.” Jake didn’t recognize his own voice. One more lie atop the rest. One more life.

Brooke blinked. “The bird boy?”

“Saddler was…he wasn’t going to make it. Tobias lost everything to this war, from the family he never knew to his own humanity.”

Jake thought of David. He still remembered, in his dreams, David’s long, wailing screams. And, just as clearly, he remembered that lone flash of vulnerability in David’s eyes when Cassie laid him bare in front of the others in the school cafeteria.

Jake thought of Tobias, out in the woods, out who-knew-where now. Loren on one side, amnesic and lost; Elfangor on the other, a dead alien legend. Billions of light-years between his homes and none of them truly his.

He had to complete the lie. But he wasn’t thinking of Saddler. He was thinking of a blond boy with tender, dreamy eyes. Thinking of a bird with fierce, golden eyes. One of six who’d found his purpose, his family, his calling in the war and never got back out. Tobias, who was a hawk, a human, and an alien all in one, who was glad enough to have people to call his own, species be damned.

“You wanted a son. Tobias wanted a family.”

A stunned silence…then the room exploded.

“How fucking  _dare_ —”

“Saddler was my  _brother!_ ”

“When were you—”

And loudest of all, Justin bellowing, “he’s a  _freak!_  Ain’t even  _human!_ ”

Jake closed his eyes. “He is human.”  _And so was I._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was technically supposed to be a bonus birthday present for Erin, but she forbade me to write it for her birthday. So I gave it several weeks of buffer.
> 
> Next up, Ghostie's present...


	2. Ghost of You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We were young. I think I liked Jake, and the war changed that to an intensity I mistook for love. Now, looking back, I don’t think I ever truly loved him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to Martin (whatchuknowbouts) for helping me plot this monster.
> 
> This is for Ghostie, who won't get a gift for the Animorphs Secret Santa because she organized it. So in lieu of a Secret Santa, I hope she'll enjoy this. Her prompt (this was from her prompt) is in the ending notes.
> 
> I feel no guilt in posting this before Christmas because it technically isn't for Secret Santa. ;)

It started out as a simple lie, one of convenience. After the war, they were all bombarded with questions from the media circus about every aspect of their lives, from their perspective of the war to their favourite type of sandwich. Of _course_ they’d ask her about Jake (and ask Jake about her). Of course they would. Rachel was dead and Tobias was gone, so as the token female (the only female) left in the group, there’d be a barrage of questions about her loves during the war and it didn’t help that she actually _had_ one. And Rachel was no longer around to fend them off.

Cassie wasn’t Rachel (despite the piece of Rachel she carried with her forever); she didn’t have it in her to be cool and composed in the spotlight. She wasn’t Marco, who loved being the centre of attention. She was just Cassie, and she really, _really_ didn’t want to explain to the masses why she loved Jake, why she still loved him, and why she had to leave him. No one who wasn’t them would understand. This way, she could be the bad guy for leaving Jake, and that seemed fair; Jake had been their bad guy for everything else.

So she stared straight at the reporter and pasted on a bleached-white smile. Every word was careful, thoughtful, and carved her up inside.

“We were young. I think I liked Jake, and the war changed that to an intensity I mistook for love. Now, looking back, I don’t think I ever truly loved him.”

The man—some reporter named Joel—looked like he’d just won the journalism lottery. And he probably did—speculation on this would rage for _weeks_ (months, years). Mostly hurled at her, of course…but that fit the script. Jake—reserved, closed-off, who all but disappeared into his parents’ house—looked the part of a spurned lover. Of course people knew, on some level, that it was from the war. But truths didn’t _sell_.

Cassie wasn’t Marco, but she learned some things from him. No media circus could ever resist gossip.

“You _never_ truly loved him?” Joel repeated, eyes wide like a child on Christmas morning.

“No.” Cassie met Joel’s eyes and counted this among her mistakes.

 

Despite her disdain for all things related to the press, there was no way the public was going to accept having only Marco available for the spotlight, even if he was the designated (and most entertaining) Animorph for public relations. So it was inevitable that she’d run into Marco at one event or another. A dinner party with select members of the Cabinet was as good a place as any.

“Looking good, Cassie.” Marco breezed by her in a carefully tailored suit, jacket off and the shirt casually rumpled _just so_ , and—were those _lifts_ in his shoes? “How’s the food? I heard there was special bark imported in for Toby?”

“Thanks,” Cassie replied, tugging nervously at her dress. Rachel was no longer around to perfect her wardrobe, and dining with members of the Cabinet _did_ demand better clothing than her usual poopy jeans. She wasn’t sure how she looked.

Marco, on the other hand, has a stylist (several, actually) to look after his wardrobe needs. None of them were anywhere as good as Rachel (no one would ever be).

“Um, good, I guess? I haven’t tried the food yet, actually,” Cassie continued. “And no, I think they just brought some from the Valley. Toby was adamant that they don’t try to import any ‘exotic’ bark that’d end up wasted, especially considering the transportation costs.”

Marco made a face. “Did they at least, I dunno, spice it up somehow? Saute it?”

“Saute _tree bark?_ ” Cassie echoed in bewilderment, until the spark in Marco’s eyes told her she’d been had. She started laughing, more at Marco than Marco’s lame joke.

Marco chuckled along with her, and for a moment life seemed almost normal, two stupid, giggly teenagers with a death wish.

It used to be six.

The thought promptly sobered her up. It slipped out without her meaning to: “Anyone else coming? Where’s Jake?” As soon as she said it she wished she could take it back.

Marco studied her with appraising eyes. “Dunno. Didn’t think he’d show. Parties aren’t exactly his scene nowadays.”

“He’ll show,” Cassie said softly. “This is…this is big. It’s the first time Toby’ll be… He _has_ to show. For Toby.” And what was she doing, talking about Jake like she knew him?

She knew the Jake he used to be. If she dug deep enough, maybe some of her Jake was still there, buried deep in whoever he was now.

“Well,” Marco said lightly after a moment, “then I guess I better go find our fearless leader. Make sure he doesn’t get lost and all. Later, Cassie.” He turned away with a cool nod.

“Later,” she said softly, watching Marco saunter off into the crowd.

She understood. He understood. She understood that he understood.

Cassie wondered if Marco judged her for her choice regardless of the whys behind it.

Marco was possibly the most loyal of them all. He joined the war for Jake and Jake’s loyalty to Tom. He turned away from the war for his father, and rejoined it for his mother. From the beginning, Marco’s motivations had been personal ones, his connections to others had been his motive and cause. And he’d known Jake since they were both in diapers.

Marco and she had never been very close; their connection had gone through Jake. And Marco would stand with Jake. Of course he would (and he _should_ ).

If there was a life-or-death situation, Cassie has absolutely no doubt that Marco would be there to help, his brilliant tactical mind calculating all the angles and his gorilla fists swinging. He would risk his life for hers, and she would do the same for him.

But anything less than that? Anything less than Jake to pull them together?

Cassie knew she’d lost him, too.

 

“And, y’know, Rach? I…I don’t think…I don’t think we would have…would have w-worked…”

She tried lying to Rachel (Rachel’s grave) at first. After all, Rachel wasn’t _around_ to call her out on it.

But Rachel _was_ around; Cassie carried a piece of Rachel within her, and she’d have that piece of her best friend forever. She could picture Rachel now: sitting on her own gravestone with her long legs crossed, designer shoes dangling off of one hand, and rolling her eyes hard enough to sprain them. In between yelling at Cassie, of course.

Cassie could lie to a lot of people; she learned how because of the war. But Rachel hadn’t been one of them, not even when the war drove them apart.

“Was I wrong, Rachel?” Cassie asked the grave numbly.

Her Rachel wasn’t around to answer anymore; she was scattered bits of ash somewhere in the world, wild and fearless and free. But Cassie still has _a_ Rachel. And it was stupid and ridiculous, of course, but after everything, Cassie had _earned_ stupid and ridiculous.

For the first time since that day on the _Barry and Cindy Sue_ show, Cassie morphed Rachel.

13-year-old Rachel was not the Rachel people remembered, hero and martyr and a handful of ashes. 13-year-old Rachel, even inundated by the war as she had been, still thought of other things too: _I’m bored_ and _ugh, my clothes_ and _oh my god, Jake, you_ dork.

But even Rachel’s immortalized 13-year-old instincts—just _instincts_ , mind, not personality and memory and the force of nature that was Rachel—were more than enough to make her ashamed.

Cassie gave up on lying to Rachel. But best friends were supposed to be there for each other through their boneheaded mistakes, right?

Rachel’s gravestone was against her back, a rock-solid presence like her namesake. And if Rachel wasn’t around to have her back anymore…well, this would do.

 

Cassie has lost count of the number of times she sat in the dark, punching in Jake’s number on her phone without actually hitting _dial_.

 _Come with me_ , she wanted to beg him.

But she knew he never would. She forced him to where he was for the sake of the war. The one time Jake had really, honestly wanted to drop his responsibilities and the reins of leadership, she forced him back. They had needed him to _win_. And he’d gotten them there, just like she knew he would.

Jake won them the war using means as evil as the Andalites before them. Maybe some part of her always knew he would.

He had been their leader, their centre. He held them together. But this…

_Don’t go where I can’t follow._

He did anyway (she made him).

Even if Jake wanted to come with her, even if he was capable of doing so (and he adamantly was not)… Cassie still would’ve left him. She had told him she loved him (she still did) and she had meant that. But some part of her had _known_ since…since before she strong-armed him back into the war…that the war had tore them apart.

She needed to put her own evilness to rest; she needed to leave her own manipulation in the past.

She needed to move on, and Jake could not follow.

 

Whatever she claimed, the media expected her to date Jake, whether that was dating men who looked like Jake or reminded her of Jake or was an excuse for her to not think about Jake. No matter whom she dated, the poor guy never could escape from Jake’s shadow, even though Jake himself had gone on record to say that “of course, Cassie’s correct, we were never actually together.”

Still Jake. Still backing her up.

Her dates varied wildly; she didn’t have a physical type. The men varied from ex-military to a dreamy artist that vaguely reminded her of a blend of Tobias and Ax. But somehow they all reminded her of Jake, in fleeting glimpses that she didn’t recognize at first: the serious turn of lips, the depth of his eyes.

She left some of them. Many left her first. There was a lot of pressure on anyone dating Cassie the Animorph. A lot of pressure on any person standing in the shadow of Jake Berenson whether or not he was actually there. It was hard to feel needed, she supposed, by one of the six saviours of the world.

Ronnie Chambers lasted longer than she expected—for starters, he lasted past her explanations about Jake. (She’d learned to get it out of the way first, given that everyone thought Jake was some combination of George Washington, Luke Skywalker, and Batman rolled into one.) Still, it was painfully clear that Jake was…a point of insecurity. Cassie was pretty sure that Ronnie had a chat with Jake before she and Ronnie officially went out together.

Of course, Jake would’ve reassured Ronnie with said everything he said to the press: no, we were never together, best wishes, blah blah blah. So she and Ronnie went out together, date after date, uneventful except for two people getting to know each other.

Some part of Cassie was disappointed by that (maybe Ax’s old soaps were rubbing off on her).

 

She wrote Jake a letter every year on the anniversary of The Hague. It was as good a date as any since she has no idea when he technically left Earth. The Hague marked the day of victory—not through fighting and murder, but through the justice system, through due process and fair trial. It felt a little more _right_ that way, a little closer to what they had once all stood for.

Cassie burned each and every letter in the fireplace after she wrote them. She wasn’t stupid enough to think it could reach Jake. But it felt closer to him, somehow—as paper crumbled to ash crumbled to dust blown away on the wind, she imagined Jake and the others, a mote awash in an endless sea of stars.

 

_Dear Jake,_

_I spoke with Noorlin and Forlay today. I’ve been trying to convince them to visit Earth and I think they’re finally going to do it. I offered to take them around the various attractions in the States, but all they really wanted to see were Tobias’ old meadow and Ax’s old scoop. I’m glad I managed to keep the press from turning those into tourist attractions._

_It’s kind of strange how easy they are to talk to. Do you remember how weird it was to talk to Ax when we first met him?_

_I once asked Ax what his parents were like, and all he could say was “normal parents.” At first I thought it was because they were normal to him, but I don’t think it’s just that anymore. They may be aliens to us, but they’re still parents._

_And lord knows I’ve talked to lots of grieving parents._

_Dear Jake,_

_Jordan is leaving for law school today. She’s taller now, dark hair cut short. She looks nothing like Rachel and she’s every inch Rachel’s sister._

_She told me none of her application essays and all of her panel interviews were about Rachel, Rachel the war-hero, Rachel the martyr. Jordan answered with Rachel the bathroom hog and Rachel who never does the dishes. It made me wonder how you would describe Tom._

_But she’s still Rachel’s sister. Her battlefield will be a courtroom floor. And you know what? Given Toby, Arbron, and everyone else…sometimes I think that’s the most important battlefield of all._

_Dear Jake,_

_Erek “died” two weeks ago. Five-car accident. Of course he didn’t really. Who knows where he is now? He might’ve been at his own funeral for all I know. If he was he didn’t say hello._

_I can’t say I blame him, but we used to be friends, the seven of us. Now he’s…I don’t know. We don’t talk to the Chee anymore._

_I guess even androids have to try to move on. The Chee reinvent themselves lifetime after lifetime, and some days, on the bad days…I wish I could too. I mean, I could…but I can’t leave everything behind. Whereas everything leaves the Chee behind because they outlive us all._

_I made Erek a promise the day everything ended. I promised him I’d take care of you. I didn’t do a very good job—nobody did a very good job then. But now I can’t even try anymore. I hope Marco took my place._

_They say you’re all dead by now, and maybe you are, but the universe is a vast, vast place. I hope they’re wrong. I hope you found Ax, and I hope you all are happy._

_Take care, Jake. ~~I love you.~~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghostie's prompt:
>
>> Cassie’s biggest lie since the war ended was more for herself than for the media. “We were young. I think I liked Jake, and the war changed that to an intensity I mistook for love. Now, looking back, I don’t think I ever truly loved him.” The little ways this lie haunts her in everyday life.


End file.
